Hobbies come and go but one consistent activity in my life has been sewing. Long gone are the days of mandatory home economics class for girls and wood shop for boys. Yes I am that old. I remembering sewing a blouse in home ec which of course, didn’t fit. My mom had taught me how to sew long before that class though and made most of my childhood clothes. I still remember my first store bought dress from Sears .. blue with ruffles! Therefore sewing is not just a hobby but a connection to my mother and also my grandmother.

My first big purchase during my teenage years was a Singer sewing machine with my saved earnings from working at McDonalds, the first in our area. I had that sewing machine for a very long time and now I am on my 3rd sewing machine. I typically sew Halloween costumes and things for the house since whenever I try to sew clothing, it never fits. I just do not know how to fit the pattern to my old, misshapen body. Despite past clothing failures, a few years ago, I decided to make a corset. I saw this project as the ultimate in sewing challenges and knew less about corset making than I did kink when I embarked on that adventure but lack of knowledge never stopped me in the past and there are no corset police. So I read information from books and the internet and discovered very helpful videos on Youtube and after a year of working it out in my mind, I made my corset. I have to say it was a moment of triumph for me since it fits.

Making a corset is one thing, however wearing it is a totally different experience. I seldom wear it since it confuses me mentally and restricts my breathing. Prior to making this corset, I had two scenarios in my head when I thought of corsets. First, Victorian ladies sipping tea within the confines of rigid social rules came to mind. High protocol is is such a turn on to me! I can’t contain myself when that ruler is used to measure the formal table setting on Downton Abbey. Weird but true. Secondly, I thought of a woman clad in a black, leather corset slapping a whip into the palm of her hand sporting a fun, evil intentional smile. In my vanilla days, this is the image of kink that was lodged firmly in my mind not the reality of the diversity within the community. But what do I think now while I wear my corset with my broadened world beyond the kitchen?

There is no place in my life for the wearing of a corset. There are some people that wear a corset as a means for weight control, some enjoy wearing it, some find it kinky and can wear it without subsequent interrogation by family members … there probably is a multitude of unique reasons for wearing a corset. I know I enjoy the tightness around my ribs and the breathing difficulty. I am reminded of Sir and ropes and I can’t quite concentrate enough to do anything. However my wearing of a corset is not a fetish for me as it is with some people but rather a reminder of a set of kinky activities that I enjoy. However my mindset does adapt to the strictness of the stays and I am forced to carry myself differently and with more formality. No slouching allowed! Sadly, there is no role in my life that calls for wearing a corset except for Sir telling me to wear it. A corset is simply objectified transference and although I wish I could identify a role that calls for the uniform of a corset, so far, I haven’t found it.

I want to make another corset some day because I loved the difficulty and challenge of engineering the fabric to my measurements. If I had to pick my #1 need in life, it is being challenged and tackling another corset excites me more than owning the final product. And this follows from what I have learned about myself .. I would much rather do something that I perceive as difficult than simply order a corset from a catalog and own it as fast as UPS could get it to me.

The days are getting longer and the bulbs are starting to break through the frozen earth and I am much happier with the slightly warmer temperatures. It has been a truly horrible winter and I am counting the days until it is over (15!). But my thoughts do not just turn to the nice weather and the possibility of nude sun bathing but also to the beginning of my relationship with Sir. Neither of us put much value in celebrating anniversaries but I do take note of the passing of several special dates: my response to his ad, his response back, our first meeting, our first play session, and a few more. I confess I secretly celebrate them but the celebration is focused on what I have learned about myself and life, and what I have left behind. I feel if I don’t take these dates to remember the journey, I will forget because so many new memories crowd out the old and I have less brain cells that are working lately. These memories are so precious and sweet to me but also unique to our budding relationship. Since these moments will never repeat themselves and although new unique memories may be created, the beginning of any relationship is special and the memories are worth retaining.

Although sweet and precious in hindsight, this doesn’t mean the beginning was an easy roller coaster ride. It was the typical boy-girl meeting, liking each other, and kinky needs complementing each other but my situation didn’t make this easy for Sir. I was coming off a relationship that resulted in stalking upon its ending and I was extremely ignorant of kink. I thought top was a sexual position (yes, that ignorant) and don’t even talk of submission, slave, and other labels and concepts. Power exchange? What was that! On the plus side, I was a blank canvas with 3 simple words in tiny letters in the center: Tie me up. My simplistic plan was to get tied up and find out if this was what I was searching for and that was that. No plans after that first bondage session. Tie me up, hurry, and then leave me alone. I was not seeking a “relationship” or friendship, only a solution to this unnamed urge inside me that had haunted and taunted me on the edge of consciousness my entire life. Unplanned by both of us, it became more than that and now it is 5 years later.

Sir was willing to take the risk and so was I but I tested Sir at every opportunity. There was just so much to learn about myself, about Sir, about the kink community and all of its words, concepts, and nuances of understanding. I was simultaneously frightened of what it was and who I was and what would happen next and so excited, I could barely stay inside my skin. Sub-frenzy took control of me. I read my first erotica and then story after story rendering me incapable of doing much else but wait to meet Sir. Eventually I settled down but it was Sir who helped me find my way back. I had not found the internet or Fetlife and it was Sir with his patience who guided me back to the living and being responsible again.

Once past sub-frenzy, we still had to get to know each other and I still had so much to learn. We both made mistakes (at least I think so, ) and we had to figure each other out both from a personality and kink perspective. We developed our own style of communication as time went on that fit our relationship. Over the years, I have misunderstood myself, Sir, and kink because of my long life in vanilla relationships. My fears and doubts have mocked me often and have been an obstacle to my understanding, happiness, and acceptance of myself. But Sir put up with my rambling emails, my blogs of nonsense, and my verbal rants as I wandered around lost. I made many mistakes, found solutions, and made the same mistake again only to find that I ended back with Sir, safe and sound. He didn’t abandon me because I wasn’t perfect but accepted me, confused mess that I was. I do want to be in control, I do want to know where I am going, and I want to plan each and every thing along the journey of life .. but these are not my needs. I simply need to surrender all of this to Sir and I do.

Sir still holds my hand as we go along, day after day. Neither of us are static but are constantly changing to meet new demands, expectations, desires, wishes, problems, challenges and anything else the remaining minutes of the future holds for us. I will make more mistakes (and maybe Sir will also) and learn more and then find a temporary respite and then change again. I look back and the thing I love the most about our relationship is how much I learned when I made a mistake and then grew due to a new understanding. These are incredible, sweet, precious moments that rattled my earth like an earthquake. How could I think what I did prior to the shift and how lovely my new knowledge was! I do not regret the words spoken in haste or anger or the actions of disobedience or the sub-frenzy or my internal battles of self during my long runs because I learned and evolved from these occurrences.

Sir was my teacher and still is. I eventually did find the internet and books and read more to supplement my knowledge. I have never sought help publicly from the internet other than privately through kinky friends. However I see many of my mistakes and errors in thinking and wrong turns on the journey ridiculued on the internet for the OP’s stupidity, lack of responsibility, and many other reasons. I admit to ignorance, mistakes, using the wrong word, not presenting my thoughts clearly and anything else I have communicated publicly but my mistakes are now my sweet memories of growth and understanding. Would I wish my memories to be sullied with harsh criticisms and public ridicule? No but I am so thankful to Sir and my friends for their guidance and support and that I never needed to publicly look for help. Now I try to remember that we were all young, ignorant children at one point in our lives and have compassion when I peruse the internet.

One thing I have learned is that to be brave does not mean to vanquish fear so I am still fearful at times but I go onward anyway. I know I am not perfect nor do I wish to be. I would rather make a hundred more mistakes than be boringly perfect for Sir. I want the excitement of the beginning of our relationship to always be there because neither of us knows what comes next now. All the good things about the beginning of our relationship don’t have to go away just because time has passed. Sir changes as do I and he constantly surprises me and I hope I surprise him despite my mundane life.

I was so excited, fearful, inpatient, happy, demanding, ignorant, wide-eyed and bushy tailed that day I answered Sir’s ad. Little did I know what a few keystrokes and hitting send would lead to. I have to giggle at my former self, give myself a hug, and say be brave and enjoy!

Recently I finished reading the book The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg and couldn’t help but relate it to my life since I am a creature of habit. I crave the comfort my of habits, routines, and lists. I confess I do not wish choices or the need to think unless it is a puzzle or captures my interest. I don’t know why I am like this since I don’t think of anything profound but I recognize this aspect of my personality and accept it. Every morning I eat my oatmeal and enjoy it like it is my first time experiencing the texture rolling around on my tongue but if I really think about it, it isn’t the flavor but just the need to get the whole breakfast thing out of the way and move on to other things. Simply fuel the body and move on! When I heard the author on NPR, I knew I had to read this book in order to understand the power habits have over my life and how they reflect my needs.

According to research described by the author, a habit consists of a three part loop: a cue, a routine, and finally a reward. The cue is the trigger that allows the brain to stop dwelling on the subsequent behaviors and go into the automatic “routine” mode. The resulting reward is what instills that automatic switch but the reward is not always apparent. Neuroscience has shown that a behavior even moves from the thinking part of the brain (the prefrontal cortex) to the brain location where emotions, memory and patterns develop (the basal ganglia) once a habit forms.

As I read these chapters, I thought of myself and my routine of working out at the gym. I was never one for exercise but enjoyed various activities. However once I hit 50, I realized I needed to exercise to stay healthy. I took up running and working out at the gym. And slowly I became healthier and fit and looking back, I know I became a bit obsessed with my body. I had this optimistic view that I could look like a 20 year old. This was my reward until the day my butt dropped. Yes it felt like one day it was toned and the next day it just dropped. My doctor told me the lack of tone would never return no matter what I did with exercising. This destroyed my reward mechanism and I just didn’t want to go to the gym anymore. I have had to come up with an alternative internal reward and disconnect the view of my body from my health. I work out to stay healthy and stay away from unrealistic goals now.

What of my rules that Sir has given me? Are they habits also? Every morning I am required to text Sir good morning before 8:35. I have a timer set on my phone to alert me that I need to text. This is my cue. Sometimes I text immediately but sometimes I will wait for various reasons. The routine is sending the text message and my reward is Sir’s acknowledgment. Sir is not required to text back but not knowing if he will reaffirms that this is a reward and not part of the routine.

But do I perform this ritual without thinking or do I actively contemplate it each morning? I confess that some mornings it does revert to a habit and I send off the text without much forethought. But most mornings I am totally engaged in sending that text … I actually contemplate not sending it some days and internally test the control he has over me from afar. This complete set of behaviors has tremendous meaning to me each morning and I wonder how it could possibly be considered a habit and yet it feels like a habit. Additionally, if my rule is defined as a habit, it lessens some of that meaning and control that Sir exerts over me even though we are apart.

It doesn’t much matter since I will be obedient and follow the rule but I am a curious person and I wonder if those neuroscientists ever considered if my actions could be switching from one part of my brain to the other or involving both areas? Perhaps my rules are actually “thinking-habits”? In following the rules, I do not wish the actions to become meaningless habits and that question to myself “Do I send this text?” every morning ensures meaning remains.

How do habits relate to my needs? I crave this kind of structure that ritualized behavior provides me and as I look at my typical day, it could be viewed as a succession of habits but not to the point of becoming a detriment to my life. But I believe the control habits exert was one of my coping skills prior to meeting Sir. Habits could be viewed as an external control of my activities since I don’t want to think about what I am doing. But in following Sir’s rules, I want to be actively thinking, feel that external control and acknowledge my obedience.

And now I see that ABC has a new show called Mindgames that uses the power of cues and subsequent behavior to solve characters problems. Interesting.